


Sometimes love is an obligation to your grandmother

by relenafanel



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Derek is perpetually single on Valentine's Day, Hale Family Feels, Humor, Innuendo, M/M, Masturbation, Matchmaking, Nana Hale is evil, Stiles asks him out every year, Valentine's Day, banter and snark, hangovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 22:04:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1202215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relenafanel/pseuds/relenafanel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Dearest Derek,</i>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <i>Welcome to your 21st year! As per the wonderful tradition of the house of Hale, you will be attending some of the best places to be single that Beacon Hills has to offer today.  First, it’s to the Coffee Shop on Main where you will get two lemon zest chocolate chip muffins.  Listen to me very carefully, I’m going to ease you into the way this works.  Buy two muffins, but you’re only going to eat one.  Find someone cute to give the second one to…</i>
</p><p> </p><p>The letter went on, but Derek was staring at it in horror, unable to process how terrible that sounded in just the first paragraph.  Today was going to suck.</p><p>*</p><p>Or: Derek's grandmother relishes setting her single grandchildren up on Valentine's Day.  Only, less 'setting up' and more 'forcing them to run a singles-only scavenger hunt where the prize is love or at least sex'.</p><p>Derek never wins.  Derek never WANTS TO win.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes love is an obligation to your grandmother

**Author's Note:**

> Explaining this fic is weird.

As far as family obligations went, it wasn’t too terrible to be forced to return home for a few days in the winter to celebrate his grandmother’s birthday.  As matriarch of the family, she insisted on two things: one, that every single one of her children and grandchildren (and, when the time came, great-grandchildren) return home for her birthday, and two, that the single (and legal) among them spend the day after her birthday searching for love.  Those were the only two presents she wanted, and each member of her family was obligated to deliver.

 

And oh boy, were they obligated.  No one struck fear into single twenty-somethings quite like their grandmother.  Derek wasn’t even sure why, but refusing wasn’t an option.  He thought maybe his grandmother had something over the older generation and this kind of response to her was learned behavior he’d picked up from a young age and had been conditioned to respond the same.  Very pavlovian.

 

So he, like every other twenty-something Hale before him, was forced to spend an entire day out looking for someone to love him. 

 

That would be fine – well, not fine, exactly, but slightly less horrific – if the day after his grandmother’s birthday wasn’t also Valentine’s Day.

 

Nana was evil.  Derek learned that at a young age.

 

x.x.x.x.

 

When Derek was twenty-one, he showed up in Beacon Hills with a small carry-on suitcase and a beard that had managed to accumulate since the last time he was home over Christmas, which incidentally was the last time he’d seen his razor.  He was half convinced Laura had stolen it for her legs, no matter how gross it sounded to use someone else’s razor on body parts it was not intended for.  Derek kissed his grandmother on the cheek when she threw open her door, and she scowled at him as she handed him an envelope.

 

“I suppose some people might like it,” she finally conceded, tugging on his facial hair so hard it brought him to tears.  He was half-sure his chin had elongated by a quarter of an inch, she’d jerked so hard.  “Don’t lose the info packet,” she told him.  “But if you do, I have extras.”

 

Laura took one look at him, at the envelope in his hands, and started laughing.  “When I suggested a beard,” she said, patting her gay BFF’s chest, “I think you misunderstood my meaning.”

 

Derek scowled at her.  He was told he took after his grandmother that way.

 

He forgot about the envelope until after his grandmother’s birthday, when she woke him up by slapping him with it.  “You’ll be late for the first event,” she said.  “Wear the blue shirt and next year bring more than one pair of pants.  Either that or bring a date, it’s your choice.”

 

“Wha?” Derek questioned, rolling out of bed automatically at the direct order.  He wasn’t really sure what was happening as he’d been up for half the night trying to keep up with Nana doing shots.  College hadn’t prepared him enough for this. 

 

“Oh,” she said.  “You’re going to need the gift I left in the bathroom.”

 

Somehow he made it to the washroom, only to find a razor on the sink counter with a little bow around it.  He was tempted to just leave it there, because no matter what she thought, his grandmother did not have control over all aspects of his life, but as he squinted into the mirror, he realized something was wrong.  Something was very wrong.  Someone had taken scissors to his beard after he passed out, leaving patches of it completely bare.  “What the f….” he hissed, taking in the appearance of his bloodshot eyes, pale skin, and the beard that looked like some animal had grazed on his face.

 

He’d been warned, Derek decided while standing beneath the shower, allowing his head to hit against the shower wall.  The tiles didn’t help his headache.

 

Neither did the box of condoms he found on his bed once he’d returned to his room.  They were on top of the cursed envelope, so Derek took a moment to open it, very gingerly flicking the condoms from the top of it, not wanting to touch them with his full hand.

 

Juvenile?  Yes.

 

Satisfying?  Yes.

 

_Dearest Derek,_

_Welcome to your 21 st year! As per the wonderful tradition of the house of Hale, you will be attending some of the best places to be single that Beacon Hills has to offer today.  First, it’s to the Coffee Shop on Main where you will get two lemon zest chocolate chip muffins.  Listen to me very carefully, I’m going to ease you into the way this works.  Buy two muffins, but you’re only going to eat one.  Find someone cute to give the second one to…_

 

The letter went on, but Derek was staring at it in horror, unable to process how terrible that sounded in just the first paragraph.  Today was going to suck.

 

Laura gave him a smug look as he stumbled out.  “I warned you,” she said ominously.  “Don’t forget the condoms!” She grabbed Rick’s hand, batting her eyelashes up at her fake boyfriend.

 

x.x.x.x.

 

Coffee Shop on Main was the worst name for a coffee shop ever.  They didn’t make up for it with amazing pastries or fantastic coffee, either.  The best thing Coffee Shop on Main had going for it was the location.

 

It was on Main Street.

 

No one was surprised.

 

“I’m so hungry,” the teenager in line behind Derek was bemoaning to his best friend, and his voice seriously wasn’t helping Derek’s hangover. “Too bad the food here tastes like sawdust…  I think at this point my two options are asking out a total stranger and hoping they take pity on me, or staying home.”

 

“But Stiles,” his friend answered.  “I really, really need you there as back up.  What if it goes badly?  What if I get to the party and have an asthma attack?  What if she doesn’t show up?  What if she does show up, but doesn’t even look at me?”

 

“Ok, ok, I have your back,” the high school student answered, and Derek might be having the worst day of his life right now, but at least he wasn’t a single high school student.  It helped brighten his mood a little.  Just as he was considering that, someone tapped on his shoulder.  “Hey dude, you single?  Want to go to a no-single-people-allowed party with me?”

 

“No,” Derek answered, barely even looking back.

 

The kid shrugged.  “Worth a try.  See,” he turned towards his friend.  “Not so easy.”

 

His friend sighed like he wasn’t sure if he should laugh or be horrified. 

 

Derek turned away and placed his order.  He’d already scoped out the coffee shop for some poor unsuspecting muffin receiver, and the moment the bag was in his hand he stalked over to her.  “Do you like muffins?” he asked in a brusque tone, because honestly, he didn’t really care whether she did or not.  He just wanted to fulfill his grandmother’s stupid list and take a nap.

 

“Uh… sure…?”

 

“Here,” Derek answered, dropping the bag on the table in front of her and moving towards the door without a backwards glance.

 

“Wow,” the teenage boy who’d been in line behind him was now staring at him with a cup of coffee in his hand.  “That dude has less game than I do,” he said to his friend.

 

x.x.x.

 

_This next request is going to be strange to you, but I left a basket of laundry in your trunk.  Trial and error says there is no better place to mingle as a single than the Laundromat.  Maybe the scent of Tide washes away the scent of loneliness, or maybe it’s just that they know how sad it is to be doing laundry on Valentine’s Day and are embracing it in a place couples are almost guaranteed **not to be**.  Next year, if you bring more laundry than the pair of pants you’re currently wearing and a few shirts, you won’t have to do my whites._

 

His fucking grandmother.  She owned a perfectly good washer and dryer.

 

Derek ended up sleeping to the rhythmic lull of the machines and the warm, humid air inside the Laundromat.  He’d never done hangovers with grace.

 

The next two places were just as bad, and he ended up returning home alone (no surprise there) and with one of his grandmother’s towels in tatters from the cheap washing machine (no surprise there either).

 

“Sorry,” Derek shrugged, not the least bit.

 

She took one look at him, one look at the basket of laundry, and said “we’ll reassess next year.”

 

Next year, Derek was going to take a page from Laura’s playbook and bring a date!  There was no way he was going through the obstacle course of love his grandmother set up around Beacon Hills again.

 

No way.

 

x.x.x.x.

 

When Derek was twenty-two, his grandmother insisted on pictures.  “No pictures, no proof!” she sang at him as she shoved him out the door with a new box of condoms in his hands.  Considering he still had the box from last year stashed somewhere, Derek wasn’t really liking his odds.

 

Laura kissed Rick’s cheek and waved at him with a cheery smile, calling him a dumb fuck beneath her breath.

 

Derek did his best to convey ‘I’ll tell on you’ with his eyebrows as he got into his car and she immediately stopped laughing.

 

There were three constants to the mid-February trip home.  The first was that Derek would get absolutely wasted with the rest of his family, something that seemed fun on the night of February 13th but less fun the morning after.  The second was that his grandmother would hand him a list of ways to torture himself because he was single that typically started with forcing him to try to pick someone up at breakfast and continued through the day until he was sitting alone in a bar or club glaring at everyone who tried to approach him. 

 

The third?  The third was that at some point during the three days Derek was home, Stiles Stilinski would find him and ask him out in the cheesiest, most ill-conceived way Derek had ever witnessed.

 

Every year, no fail, all three things happened, no matter how many times throughout the other 362 days Derek promised himself that it would be different this time around.

 

_We all agree that the diner probably has a few couples sitting around and… I don’t know, is sharing milkshakes still a thing?  Don’t worry, that’s not what I’m asking you to do.  All I ask is that you go there, sit on one of the barstools or ask someone sitting alone if you can join them, and then leave your phone number on the receipt.  You can either give the receipt to someone you’ve been talking to, or leave it for the lovely waitress, who I’m sure has been taken in by your surly good looks and amazing manners._

 

His grandmother seriously overestimated him, Derek scowled, climbing onto one of the stools at the counter.  The problem was that Derek was polite to waitresses, and he knew that if he left his number for this particular one, that she’d use it.

 

Derek was never more happy to hear the musical tinkling of the door chiming behind him as he was when the waitress leaned closer to him, giving him a flirtatious smile.  This was terrible.  He didn’t want to lead people on into thinking he was actually interested.  That’s why Derek hardly ever smiled.  His grandmother was the worst.

 

(Ok, that wasn’t the only reason Derek hardly ever smiled, but it worked for him.)

 

“The usual?” she asked, straightening to face whoever had just entered the diner.  Her smile was a lot more fond and a whole lot less predatory when she faced the newcomer.

 

“Hey Becky!” someone leaned against the counter next to him.  “Dad and I are gonna watch the Terminator movies and revel in being single again this year.  As a treat for my special date, he’s allowed curly fries instead of the steamed veggies.  Plus, throw in some of those triple chocolate brownies.”

 

“Wow, Stiles,” she said in an unimpressed tone.  “You sure know how to treat a date right.”

 

“You knows it,” he answered with an exaggerated wink.

 

Becky handed Derek his bill and turned away to deal with the kid’s order.  While her back was turned, Derek quickly jotted down his phone number and took a picture of it.  Then he crumpled it into a ball and shoved it into the lettuce he’d picked off his burger.

 

“That’s not how you do that,” the kid next to him said in a low tone of voice, grabbing a napkin out of the dispenser.  He grabbed Derek’s pen and scrawled a number over it, pushing both across the counter back at Derek.  “You should call me some time, I’ll give you pointers.”  The guy got a good look at him and stared.  “Oh my god, you’re the muffin man!”

 

“Excuse me?”  Derek asked in confusion.

 

“How do you have zero game?” the guy asked, gesturing at Derek’s everything.

 

Derek wasn’t trying to have game! He was trying to have the opposite of game!  Didn’t his grandmother know what a curse his face was?  Derek didn’t have trouble getting dates, what Derek had trouble with was finding people he actually wanted to date.

 

So Derek just scowled at the guy and left.

 

x.x.x.x.

 

When Derek was twenty-three, he wasn’t the only one single and out on the town at Nana Hale’s insistence.  His grandmother had handed him his envelope, which wasn’t a surprise to anyone, and then she handed one to both Laura and Rick.  “You’re like family to me now,” she said, patting Rick on the cheek.  “That’s why the three of you will end your night at Jungle.  Maybe the two of you will have more luck there,” she told her actual biological grandchildren.

 

“You told,” Laura hissed at him as they all climbed into the family station wagon, which was not the way to pick up single people.  Derek thought it might be a deliberate choice on Laura’s part.

 

Derek hadn’t, but he just shrugged.  Watching Laura and Rick navigate through giving someone a breakfast pastry was delightful.  Derek had now figured out to find someone eating a muffin, take a sneaky picture of that person whether they had a date or not, and use it as his proof.

 

When Laura and Rick, both exhausted from trying to figure out which of the three men alone in the Coffee Shop were single or gay, made it back to the car, Derek was busy playing Candy Crush on his phone.

 

“How did you do it so fast?” Laura asked, leaning back in the front seat.

 

Derek showed her the picture.

 

Laura just stared at it, open-mouthed.  “You didn’t even buy that muffin!  That girl was there with…”

 

Derek shrugged.

 

“That’s cheating,” Laura said in awe.  “If I wasn’t so pissed at you for tattling, I’d be impressed.”

 

“I didn’t tell.  It probably has more to do with the fact that Rick’s last three profile pictures on Facebook have been him making out with his boyfriend, and then all the lamenting statuses after they broke up.  The fact he changed his profile to single probably didn’t help.”

 

“Rick!” Laura said, swatting her hand behind her as Derek drove to the Farmer’s Market.   “You added Nana to Facebook?”

 

“I keep forgetting she knows how to use computers better than I do.”

 

x.x.x.x.

 

_Three attractive people like you probably won’t even have to buy your own drinks.  Don’t stand together like a herd.  Branch out.  Give some guy bedroom eyes.  Don’t forget to use condoms and enjoy all the cock you’ll be getting!  I’ve included lube._

_And Laura, dear, this might be a bit of a challenge to you, but I’m sure your brother can help you find someone who likes the equipment you have as well as the equipment he has.  Just don’t fight over the same guy.  I raised you better._

 

“Why does Nana think Derek likes cock?” Laura whispered in a horrified tone, wincing at the word and making vomit-y faces.  “I don’t think I can ever use that word again.”

 

“Maybe because I do,” Derek answered casually, arms crossed. 

 

Both Rick and Laura stared at him in surprise.

 

“Why does your grandmother have better gaydar than I do, too?” Rick asked mournfully.

 

“I’m pretty sure it’s because she sold her soul.”

 

“Well, speaking of cock,” Rick said, looking at Derek.  “Mine just so happens to be great.  I haven’t gotten any complaints.”

 

“No complaints doesn’t mean it’s great,” Laura jeered, jarring him with his shoulder.  “Hardly the same thing at all.  Unless someone has said ‘wow Rick, your dick is great’ then it’s probably just ok.”

 

“Mine’s ok,” Rick said to Derek.  “So what do you say?  You’re single.  I’m single.”

 

“Why are you still here?” Derek grumbled.  “You’re under no family obligation.”

 

Rick shrugged.  “Your grandmother is kind of cool, plus I’ve always been curious.  It sounded way more entertaining than the family dating Laura dragged me to every year.  I now associate omelets with Laura’s mouth.  I’ve had to start eating waffles for breakfast.”

 

x.x.x.x.

 

Jungle was… well, the only person who seemed to be doing well in Jungle was Rick.  Nana would be so disappointed if she found out Derek had gone in, squeezed himself between two people dancing, took a selfie, and then fled the building.

 

But Nana would never find out.

 

He was sitting on the hood of the station wagon, enjoying the unseasonably warm air for February in Northern California, when a guy walked up.  He was about the third person to approach Derek for a smoke since he’d left Jungle and there was something familiar about him.  Derek didn’t have cigarettes, and wasn’t even smoking, so he tried to keep his head down and not look directly at the guy, hoping his body language would keep people away.

 

“Dude, do you have any condoms?”

 

“What?” Derek asked, looking up and squinting at the guy.  As far as come-ons went, it wasn’t completely original, but it was kind of jarring to hear, like Derek knew exactly where this conversation was going and absolutely did not want to hear the conclusion where the guy offered to help him use them.  It was too dark to tell for sure, but if it was any other day Derek’s answer might not be no.  He’d always had a weakness for guys with broad shoulders and slim waists.

 

But it was Valentine’s Day, and there was no way Derek was giving his grandmother the satisfaction.

 

Only, Derek had no idea where this conversation was going because then the guy launched into a tale of woe about his best friend thinking he was prepared for Valentine’s Day only to find out that the box he thought was full of condoms actually had zero in it.  “So, as his bro, I ran down to the drugstore, but everything closes at 9 in this shitty town, and I thought ‘where else can I find condoms’.  Jungle seemed a likely place as any, only I’m not legal and the bouncer seems to know that, so…” the guy shrugged, palms up, appealing to Derek’s good side.  “Here I am trying to bum them off a stranger.  Or, well, as strange as some guy who doesn’t know what do with muffins or phone numbers can be.”

 

And oh, fuck, it was _the kid_. The kid he’d had to mention in his grandmother’s post-Valentine’s Day debriefing twice now. 

 

Well, ‘had to’ was a bit of a misnomer.  More like ‘his grandmother got them all drunk on her birthday and asked him to tell her stories of what had happened the year before because his grandmother was evil and knew that he’d be relaxed after a year had gone by.’  Derek had just talked about the diner incident the night before. 

 

“Just take them,” Derek answered with a sigh, digging a strip of condoms out of his pocket.

 

“Whoa, really?  Won’t you need them?”

 

Derek gestured around him.  “Yeah, they’re lining up.”

 

The guy burst out into shocked laughter, clamping his hands over his mouth with wide eyes, four condoms trailing between his fingers.  “They could be,” he answered, gesturing towards the club, “if you were in there instead of out here skulking on the hood of your car and looking like you’re charging $30 a blow job.”

 

“ _What?”_ Derek asked incredulously.

 

“I never thought that,” he answered dismissively.  “Unless you want to help me use them.”

 

And there was the line he expected.

 

The guy seemed to understand what Derek’s glare meant because he laughed again and waved off he question.  “Besides, if you were trying to be sexy, you wouldn’t have picked this total mom car.”

 

“Yeah, Derek,” his sister’s voice came from behind him.  “Mom’s car lacks sex appeal, thank god.  Who’s your friend?”

 

“Leaving,” the guy answered her.  “Thanks again,” he said to Derek before jogging over to a blue jeep parked about five cars away.

 

“Leaving was kind of hot,” Rick observed, clapping Derek on the shoulder.  “At least one of us got some.”

 

x.x.x.x.

 

When Derek was twenty-five, he handed his grandmother the box of condoms with three missing.  She looked delighted for a moment before he said “I used them to jerk off in the Camaro so I didn’t have to clean the dash later.  Here are the pics.”

 

“Oh my god, Derek,” Laura exclaimed, grabbing his phone from their grandmother.  Nana looked horrified, but Laura took one look at his phone and burst into laughter.  She was doubled over for almost two minutes before she was able to form sentences.  “You actually just showed Nana dick pics.  You are the best.  I thought Ryan was my favourite brother, but it’s definitely you, you surly, marvelous asshole.”

 

“Hey!” Ryan grumbled.

 

“Shut up! You got married the year after Nana decided that shoving her grandkids on the meat market on Valentine’s Day was her idea of fun.”

 

“And why do you think I got married so young!” Ryan snapped back.  “I didn’t mean it like that, honey,” he immediately followed up with.

 

x.x.x.x.

 

At twenty-six, pictures were not a requirement.  Derek spent the day napping in his car.

 

What he hadn’t mentioned was that the year before, as he’d been jerking off in the front seat of the Camaro, parked in the empty lot behind the mall and feeling a thrill of illicitness, someone had knocked on his window.

 

“Sorry to interrupt your fun, especially since it seems like you were really enjoying yourself,” the guy said, a flush along his cheeks as he looked at Derek’s face directly.  “It’s just my dad sends a cruiser back here on a fairly regular rotation so you should probably consider zipping up and moving your car in the next few minutes or else one of the deputies will probably have to arrest you.”

 

“That’s… yeah,” Derek could feel his entire body flush, beyond the arousal.  “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

 

“Valentine’s Day just isn’t a good day for you,” the guy said, looking at Derek more intently.  “You’re really bad at this date thing, even when the date is your own hand.”

 

Derek looked at the guy more closely, because fuck everything.  It was the kid who’d witnessed pretty much every single one of his Valentine’s Day fails since he’d turned twenty one.

 

And also, it seemed, the son of the Sheriff. 

 

And no longer a teenager, now, if his height and the broadness of his shoulders, and the way his long fingers curled around the open window of Derek’s car were any indication.  Which, they shouldn’t be, but Derek also had a vague memory of the guy being the same age as Cora.

 

“I’d try the alley behind the hardware store.  It’s where I usually go, and there won’t be any cops.  Usually there’s no one there at all,” the guy said with an exaggerated wink.  “Unless you want a hand.”

 

x.x.x.x.

 

He thought he’d made it through his trip home to see his grandmother with minimal pain this year when he stopped at a gas station to fill up and so Laura could use the washroom.  Cora was in the back seat of the car, sulking about her first year as a single, legal-aged Hale, and Derek felt like a veteran now with how many fucks he gave about the whole process.

 

He and Laura exchanged smirks at Cora’s aggressive hatred towards how hard she’d tried to find someone appropriate to give a muffin to.  She hadn’t even gotten to the second activity Nana sent her on in her story, and they were about two hours into the trip, almost in San Francisco.

 

“Oh,” a voice said from the other side of the fridge section as Derek pulled out a can of iced tea.  He looked over to find a guy staring at him, an energy drink in one hand and his fingers hovering over a carton of milk.  “I didn’t see you yesterday, I thought I missed you.”

 

Derek frowned in confusion.  He knew the guy, actually recognised him immediately this time, but he didn’t really know what he was talking about or why they’d met in a gas station 200 miles from Beacon Hills.

 

“I don’t believe in fate,” the guy said with a quirk of his lips.  “Complete hokum.  But you’ve been a constant highlight on Valentine’s Day, so I missed you, dude.  Where were you?”

 

Derek shrugged.  He didn’t owe this guy any explanation, but he felt like sharing.  “Napping off a hangover in my car.”

 

He was getting older.  The hangovers were getting worse.  He might actually still be a bit hungover.  Fuck now being in his late twenties.

 

Stiles started laughing.  “Oh man, you’re the guy Deputy Oliver thought was a dead body.  He had to slink back to my dad and explain it was just some guy sleeping and waiting for girlfriend.”  At this, Stiles looked around the gas station, as though he would sight the girl Derek had been waiting for.

 

Derek jerked his thumb towards Laura, who had finished peeing and was now trying to decide between overpriced Starbursts or Skittles.

 

“Well, in that case,” Stiles continued, voice taking on a smooth tone that told Derek he was being flirted with.  If that didn’t, the bedroom eyes or the way Stiles licked his lips while looking at Derek’s face would have.  “Maybe you’d like to meet up for coffee the next time you’re in town.”

 

“I probably won’t be back to Beacon Hills until next Christmas.  Sorry,” Derek was actually surprised to find that the apology was genuine.

 

Stiles just shrugged.  “Oh well, see you next year.”

 

Laura’s eyes were narrowed after Stiles as he walked past her.  “I know him from somewhere,” she said.

 

“Sheriff’s kid,” Derek grunted, taking both bags of candy from her and adding them to the drinks he was carrying.

 

“Ohhh,” she answered, smirking.  “The guy from the Jungle parking lot who you gave a handful of condoms to.  The one who witnessed your muffin fail.  And your diner fail.  And your masturbatory fail.”

 

“How do you know about that?” Derek snapped, automatically blushing, partially from embarrassment and partially because it had been a scenario he’d repeated in his head a few times in the last year, and how his sister was talking about it out loud.

 

“You were so drunk at Nana’s birthday.  She was so delighted by the story that she probably won’t even care you spent this year sleeping in your car.”  Laura considered this for a moment.  “Cora, on the other hand, might shank you if she finds out you skipped out.”

 

x.x.x.x.

 

When Derek was twenty-seven, he was seeing a girl he liked enough to bring home with him.  That year, Ryan was the one out buying muffins for strangers.  It turned out his ex-wife didn’t really like the constant jokes of why he’d married her so young when none of them contained the word ‘love’ in them.

 

“So this is what the other half does?” Derek asked, fingering the corner of his brunch menu.  Nana had made reservations for all the couples for the entire day.  He thought he’d get a relaxing Valentine’s Day, but instead he was stuck with all the paired up Hale members.  It explained Rick’s comment about omelets entirely.

 

“It’s like family dating,” Laura answered with a grimace.  “We’ll all go bowling later.  Maybe to a movie.  Still better than the alternative.”

 

Derek disagreed.  Derek had actually started to have fun finding ways to meet all of his grandmother’s insane requirements and yet not actually do a single one of them.  Derek was a Valentine’s Day pro by this point.

 

(“Are you here alone?” Stiles asked, sidling up next to him in the line for the concession stand.  “I’m just here with my dad, so I can totally skip out on my date if you wanted to see something with me instead,” he cajoled.  “Maybe we can figure out just how much public handjobs turn you on.”

 

Derek felt acutely awkward, especially after realizing that he’d been leaning towards Stiles to hear the low tones of his offer.  “My girlfriend…”

 

“Say no more,” Stiles answered, slipping off into one of the theatres.)

 

x.x.x.x.

 

Derek, at twenty-eight, was way too old for this shit, but that didn’t stop his grandmother from sending him on his way, an envelope in his hand.  In the last year, Laura had actually gotten married, and Derek felt like he’d lost his commiseration partner, because there was something seriously wrong with Cora.  Wrong, as in she was treating the whole thing as a competitive challenge instead of an irritation.

 

“Hey, muffin man!” Stiles said, sidling up next to him in Coffee Shop on Main.  Of course it was Stiles.  “Top or bottom?”

 

“Bottom,” Derek answered.  “But only from here.  The tops are usually burnt.  Top if we’re talking about the ones they sell at Fancy’s.  I like the sugar they sprinkle on them, but there’s never enough filling.”

 

Stiles stared at him.  Derek knew that stare.  He’d encountered it enough times when people weren’t sure what to do with his deadpanned delivery.

 

“Usually I like both,” Derek finished with.

 

“Uh… I didn’t mean actual muffins.”

 

“I know,” Derek smirked.

 

“You’re evil.”

 

Stiles had no idea.  He took after his grandmother that way.

 

“You have a hot date tonight?”

 

“No,” Derek answered, crossing his arms over his chest.  “Haven’t for a while,” he continued with, because for some reason he wanted Stiles to know he no longer had a girlfriend.

 

“Do you want one?” Stiles asked, waggling his eyebrows.

 

“Not really.”

 

Stiles just laughed.  “Have fun with your path of destruction of leaving confused, half aroused hearts in your wake,” he said.  “Your sister is worse than you are at aggressive muffin giving.  Last year she shoved one into one of my friends’ hands, sat down, and forced him to eat it in front of her.  I actually applaud you for your smoothness in retrospect.”

 

“Thanks,” Derek answered with a shrug.  “It’s a gift.”

 

“You’re whole body is a gift,” Stiles answered, making a show of checking Derek out.  “Damn.  Even hungover as hell.  Maybe especially hungover as hell.”

 

“Half-aroused?  Maybe,” Derek snorted.  “But you’ve never been confused, considering the fact you’ve asked me out every single year.”

 

“No, I’ve always known what I’ve seen in front of me.”

 

“What’s that?” Derek asked, smirking as he ripped the top of the muffin off his second one and shoved a piece of it into his mouth.  Stiles tore a bite off the corner he wasn’t holding and popped it in his mouth.  Derek shoved the whole bag at him.  “It tastes like sawdust,” he reminded Stiles.

 

“A guy who doesn’t give a shit about finding someone on Valentine’s Day but feels the need to try to anyway, so he sabotages himself.  He’s good at it too.  It’s not that he hates himself, or that he hates love.  I think it’s probably because he doesn’t believe he can make a connection to someone in only one day, and a day when people are desperate for love is not the day to start.  Because those people?  Those lonely people looking for a connection?  They only pick him because he’s painfully attractive and he knows that.”

 

Derek hadn’t been expecting a serious analysis, and he wasn’t sure that Stiles was 100% right, but he also knew that Stiles wasn’t wrong.  It was surprising to realize that maybe this guy had seen him.  “I’m not sure what that says about you.”

 

“Painfully attractive people who are guaranteed to turn me down are kind of my thing,” Stiles said with a shrug.  “Dunno what that says about me. Oh, looks like my order of bear claws is ready.  See you next year, Derek.”

 

x.x.x.x.

 

“There’s Stiles,” Derek said, pulling over as he caught sight of Stiles attempting to pull something out of the back seat of his jeep.  “May as well get this over with.”  He studied his reflection in the mirror on the back of his visor, making sure his hair was still the way he liked it.

 

“That sounds like you’re going to say no again this time,” Laura said as she turned to look at Stiles.

 

From the back seat her husband piped up.  “Why are you going to say no?  He looks like your type.  Why let him try in the first place?”

 

“He asks every year,” Derek answered.  “I just want to give him the opportunity so we can both go along with our visits.”

 

“That’s the problem,” Laura answered her hubby.  “He asks every year.  Derek doesn’t know how to say anything other than no.”

 

Derek ignored them both and got out of the car, only to get back into the car five minutes later.

 

“Maybe he didn’t see you,” Andrew suggested doubtfully.

 

x.x.x.x.

 

“Stiles is here,” Laura said, gesturing with her chin towards the other side of the bar.  She and Andrew had gotten bored with family dating and had decided to bug him.  Derek thought she was just interested in seeing this whole thing play out.

 

It wasn’t like Derek could have missed that Stiles was there.

 

Stiles was across the bar with a group of friends, shooting Derek glances every few minutes from beneath his eyelashes.  He’d lick the alcohol off the rim of his tumbler and give Derek a look that gathered heat beneath his skin.  He was waiting for Stiles to come over and make some observation, give him some cheesy pick up line that Derek would turn down flat.  He was expecting it, already had the word no on his tongue and a smirk ready on his lips, prepared for bantering with the guy who kept meeting his eyes across the room.  He itched with anticipation for it, had been hoping for and looking forward to this moment for months.

 

There was no way Stiles hadn’t seen him this time if the slow smile he’d given Derek when Derek walked in was any indication.

 

“Wow, that’s hot,” Laura decided with a smirk.  “Andrew and I are going to be watching from over there,” she pointed towards the dance floor.  “There’s no way I’m standing here while you and your boy combust the surrounding area with your sexual tension.”

 

“Say yes,” Andrew prompted him.

 

Derek just shook his head slightly.  There wasn’t anything between Stiles and himself.  That’s why he was staring at him so intently.

 

With one last look towards him, Stiles said goodbye to his friends and moved across the bar.  Derek followed his progress with a faked casualness, waiting for the moment where Stiles moved out of his blind spot and finally approached him.

 

It didn’t come.

 

A few minutes later, Derek turned to look, convinced he would find Stiles somewhere behind him, but Stiles seemed to have left.

 

Derek wasn’t disappointed.

 

He wasn’t.

 

Fuck, he thought, as he realized Stiles wasn’t going to even bother trying this year.  Fuck.  Derek really wanted Stiles to ask him, to continue the tradition.  He wasn’t even sure why he was going to say no, except that he always said no, even when the interaction was one of the highlights of his entire trip home (and maybe even his entire year).

 

His sister was right about that.

 

Derek stood, moving towards the exit.  It was colder this year than it had been the year outside of Jungle, and Stiles looked surprised to see him, his hand on the other side of the door.

 

“I wasn’t going to this year,” he said, slightly out of breath.  “I’ve tried every single year since I was sixteen and you turned me down every single time.  You’re going to turn me down now, but what the hell?” he shrugged with one shoulder.  “This is the last time, I’m not asking again next year.”

 

“So don’t,” Derek answered with a smirk, allowing the door to close behind them.  “You shouldn’t have to.”

 

“I don’t have to do anything,” Stiles pointed out obstinately.  “I do it because I want to, because of the way you look ridiculously pained when I do.  It’s just not funny anymore.  I don’t want you to look like I just insulted your faith in humanity.”

 

“What faith in humanity?”

 

“Yeah.  This was fun, Derek Hale.”

 

Derek realized as Stiles walked away that he wanted to take Stiles to couples-only parties, and text him terrible lines using the number he’d gotten in the diner.  He wanted Stiles to help him use a huge supply of condoms and give him a hand while he was jerking off.  And fuck.  The movies thing.  He wanted to go to the movies with Stiles and sit in the back row and exchange frantic handjobs during the loud, explosive scenes. 

 

He wanted all of it, every single thing Stiles had ever asked him over the years.  He wanted it now, and he probably wanted it then too if he would have opened himself up to the possibility of his grandmother’s stupid idea actually working.

 

“But you didn’t ask me anything,” Derek pointed out as Stiles walked away.  “There wasn’t a question in there.”

 

Stiles turned and gave him a sarcastic, unimpressed look.  “Do I actually need to ask?”

 

“Yes,” Derek answered sharply.  He ran his hand through his hair in frustration.  “How else will you know my answer?”

 

Stiles’ breath puffed out of his mouth, visible in the freezing temperatures.  His hands were shoved into his pockets and nose red with the cold.  He seemed to be debating whether this was one huge trick or not.  “Ok.  Do you want to date me?”

 

“Yeah, I do,” Derek answered quickly, probably stupidly desperate now that he’d practically had to pull the question out of Stiles.  He’d expected his answer to be teasing, maybe say no and then promise Stiles he was joking, but there was something about the way Stiles asked, as though none of it was a joke anymore, that made Derek be equally as genuine.

 

“Oh,” Stiles answered, the word visible on the air between them.  “Oh.”

 

“Come here,” Derek said, hand clasping against the front of Stiles’ hoodie as he used the pocket to draw him forward.  Stiles was less patient than he was, moving into Derek like the past eight years had been a collision course for this moment.  Stiles was warm against his front, his arms immediately curving around Derek’s back.

 

“You’re such a stubborn asshole,” Stiles said with a laugh, his mouth pressing against Derek’s with a joyful smash of their lips.  Stiles couldn’t seem to stop smiling.  Derek didn’t really want him to.  “We could have been doing this for years.  That time that I found you in your car, oh my god.”

 

“I’ve thought about that,” Derek admitted, his fingers sliding through Stiles’ hair.  Stiles’ demeanor changed as he stared at Derek, gaze more intent and full of promise as he dedicated all his focus on Derek’s mouth. 

 

“Have you?” he asked in that smooth tone that had haunted Derek’s thoughts. 

 

“After it stopped being mortifying.”

 

They were moving, Derek taking a step back as Stiles moved the two of them against the brick building of the bar they’d both been in.  Derek could feel the texture of the wall against his shoulders, even through the jacket he was wearing.  Stiles was kissing him with his full concentration now, his teeth biting slightly at Derek’s lower lip as his hand slid down Derek’s chest, two fingers slipping beneath the waistband of Derek’s jeans.

 

“It was never mortifying to me,” Stiles answered with a smirk that Derek could feel.  “What did you think about?  Did you think about me giving you a hand?  Did you think about me opening the car door and sliding to my knees beside you and taking you into my mouth?  Did you consider what would have happened if you just kept going, fucking into your hand as I watched?”  Each question was punctuated with a sharp kiss and an even sharper gaze, conveying both humor and the need to make his point.  “Because I considered all those things as I was standing there.  I would have done any of them.”

 

“Oh,” Derek answered, and the warmth of the word was swallowed by Stiles’ kiss.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Want more of me? [I'm on tumblr.](http://relenafanel.tumblr.com/)


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